Entry 8

Today we started testing. One big push for the school as a whole was having 100% attendance. Our class did have 100% attendance. Other classes and grades didn't. Volunteers went out door-to-door to get students. Other staff called homes to find out where students were and to try to get them to school. The reason for going door-to-door (one reason) is a lot of our families don't have phones.

It took a lot to get the students settled to start the exam. Tension was high, but we got started.

I was assigned as a reader to a student identified as being allowed extra help. I had specific instructions to read verbatim all questions, but not to provide any assistance with answers. This student is a young black male. He is very sweet, healthy and cute. His clothing is filthy. His white shirt is probably two or four sizes too large for him. He rolls the sleeves up two or three times. He wears this shirt days is a row. It's not just stained, it's dirty all over. I let Sister know of my concern. She will check and look into getting him a new shirt.

The student I helped did the best he could on his test. I know he did miss (get wrong) many, many questions. I know with a little help, he would have done much better. His score will not reflect his intelligence in my opinion.

Entry 7

Today was a prep day for the standardized state test. We handed out packets with sample math questions to the class.

The desks were setup like they will be for test day. The students had to work the math problems with no assistance from us.

Ms. L. had to go downstairs to get information for the exam on Wed. I was left with the class alone. As usually happens, the class started acting up as soon as Ms. L. left the room. It's aggravating when this happens. It sometimes feels like I'm not even there. I can keep small groups of the class together, but other pockets start acting up. I get them settled and then another group starts. When I try to address the class as a whole, they all start talking and acting up. I saw a teacher in the hallway I really respect and whom the students really listen too. I asked her to come in and speak with the students for me. She's wonderful and I love to watch her work with the students. The first thing she did was turn the lights off and ask the students to put their heads down. It only took seconds for them to comply. Then she said, "Good morning class.". They all responded, "Good morning Ms. V.". She then talked with them about being 5th graders and not needing to be told how to control themselves; that they should know how to behave and should be ashamed of their behavior. She talked to them about how they should listen to me; that Ms. L. should be able to leave the room and expect good behavior from them. After Ms. V. left, the students were fine, but it wasn't long before another staff person came in and stayed with me until Ms. L. came back.

It's not clear to me why the students don't respect my authority, but it is something I want to work on. I want to e.arn their respect.

Entry 6

We are settling into a routine in the classroom. The students recognize me and say hello when I come in.

Today Ms. L was getting report cards ready and I was able to help her. One part of report cards is attendance. I was amazed to see that some students had missed up to 24 days of school. Of course there were also students with perfect attendance.

One female student will often mouth-off at me. Today she asked me, "Isn't it time for you to leave yet?". Ms. L sent her to the principle. When the student came back she was humble and politely said, "Ms. B., I'm sorry.". I told her it was okay and I understood.

Many students do enjoy having me in the classroom and ask when I'll be back again and if I'll eat lunch with them. They are so sweet. I want to take them all home.

Entry 5

I met Sister Mary at her house this morning. She needed my station wagon to bring a ton of coats to school for a coat give-away. A mother at a local private school took up a collection for the children at the inner-city school and was able to provide a large number of coats. Sister Mary sent fliers home with students and contacted some families directly to let them know about the coats. She also asked teachers to identify students in particular need. The coats were very nice. There were all sizes and styles. Some were winter coats and a few were lighter. Clothing bars were set up and the coats were placed on hangers. I wasn't able to attend the actual give-away.

Entry 4

I wanted to write today about a few things I've observed. The students are obsessed with their pencils. They love their pencils and pencil sharpeners. They spend lots of time sharpening their pencils all day. They borrow sharpeners from each other. There is no sharpener in the classroom. There was one, but it broke.

The students are also particular about their shoes. I made the mistake of stepping on more than one student's foot. You would have thought the world was coming to an end. It seems to be a matter of respect with them. It's a boundary I'll be careful not to cross again. The student's reaction seemed extreme to me. Perhaps the reactions were extreme, because their shoes are one of the few items they identify as theirs alone.

These personal items, pencils and shoes, are important to the students.

Entry 3

Today when I got to school, I went straight to my classroom. The students were working on math.

I was able to go to Sister Mary's office during a break. I sorted socks and underwear for her.

School ended early today due to the teachers voting on the budget cuts. This allowed me the time to eat with my students for lunch. The kids were happy to have me sit with them and eat the same meal they were. I learned from a previous placement, eating with your internship subjects really helps put you on their level. It's a way of letting them know you consider yourself really "with" them and on equal terms.

One boy took this opportunity to tell me that no one in his class likes him, because they all think he is gay. I let Sister Mary know and she'll be getting in touch with the social worker at the school.

Entry 2

Today I started working with my 5th grade class. The teacher is Ms. L. The students are a delight.

We work on math in the morning and then move into reading.

The classroom itself is dirty. The floor is dirty. The desks need washing.

There are three computers in the room. There is a dedicated printer as well.

Basically I tried to be an extension of the teacher. I walked around to all the desks and helped the students. I'm learning some of the teaching methods used in the classroom such as "BCR" - Brief Constructive Response.

The class is getting ready for a state-wide test on english and math. This is the focus of our work right now.

Entry 1

My teacher suggested three possible internships to me today. I was most interested in the Family and Community Resource Center. This internship was the one I had my eye on when I first started this class. It's an internship with an inner-city school where ironically, the Catholic Church has a role. I placed a call to Sister Mary.

I was scheduled to come in on Feb. 4th. It was a snow day and we started two hours late. I knew the neighborhood this school was in was a known drug area. Ironically it's located near a world renowned hospital, but a few blocks away ... poverty.

Sister Mary introduced me to the program and filled out my fieldwork learning objectives. She shared a PowerPoint presentation with me and gave me a tour of the school. This school is a "full-service community school". A motto I saw often was "To succeed in school, children need a healthy family". Sister Mary works to meet this goal. She is involved with the students and their entire family.

I'll be working with a 5th grade teacher.

Inner-city School internship

I've wanted to write about an internship I did a few years back. I spent a semester at an inner-city public elementary school. I learned more at this internship about life and poverty than I ever have personally experienced. The saddest part for me; this was just one school. One small school. There are a 100 of these schools in our city and 1000's across the country where daily life is a struggle.

I believe "white-bread" America needs to spend some time in these schools. It would explain to them what is really happening in our country. Why our cities are the way there are. Why kids don't graduate from high school. Why drugs are an alternative. Why gangs are an alternative. Anything is an alternative if you life is daily chaos.

The names will be changed in my writing. I'm pulling this from a journal I kept while I was there.

Traditional Catholic

You are a 84% traditional Catholic!

Fantastic! You have achieved mastery over most of the important doctrines of the Catholic faith! How did you managage to educate yourself so well?

Do You Know Your Baltimore Catechism?
Take More Quizzes

Our Cabin

I have a little story. Might not mean much to others, meant the world to me.

At our Ash Wednesday service I was beside myself with worry about how to handle the cabin on the ESVA this year. This is the cabin that was my father's and was suppose to be mine, but my father died without having transferred it to me. Thus, it is owned by my stepmother on paper, but maintained solely by me. It's been a bit awkward of a situation. I had prayed about this often and 90% of the time was letting the Lord handle things. On Ash Wednesday I prayed and meditated about this asking God for resolution and peace. Then I forgot about it. Well a few weeks later I received a letter in the mail from my stepmother indicating she wanted my sister and I to decide what we wanted to do with the cabin. What WE wanted to do! Sister and I discussed and agreed we wanted the cabin put in our names. We wrote a letter back to stepmother and to our amazement, she agreed and is meeting with her lawyer on the Monday after Easter to determine the best way to make this happen.

Why is it I am always amazed by His grace? I am in awe. Now I know others may think there was no correlation between my prayer and worry and God's action, but not me. I love it when these things happen, because it affirms my believe that God does handle things in His time for His reasons and for the most part I am clueless.

Conversion conclusion

The parish I belong to is small. I would have been the only person going through RCIA. I knew of a larger local parish that had a formal, established RCIA program. I talked to my priest and he agreed that attending RCIA there would be a good idea. I wanted the discussion and group learning experience a larger parish could provide.

My RCIA class had about 18 people in it. That’s a large number for our “cluster” of five churches, (per our diocese, we are the North XYZ County Cluster). Interestingly enough, my sponsor was from a third church in our cluster. Classes run from school year to school year. I started late and had to follow through to the next class before being able to participate in the Easter Vigil.

Both my husband and I had been previously married. We had to go through the annulment process. We were lucky. Our previous marriages had not involved a Priest and this qualified us for the “short” annulment process. Others in our class had more difficult annulments to face.

There were two types of people attending this RCIA class; those who were converting because their betrothed was Catholic and those who had decided to become Catholic after a search for faith. To me, the difference in these two types was remarkable. Some of us were there to delve deeper into understanding of the church, attended as many sessions as possible, go to Mass regularly and study. Some barley made it through the mandatory requirements to participate. For me, an entire year of my life revolved around RCIA. It was intense. I cried. I laughed. I really, really enjoyed it.

Sadly, a member of our RCIA class died weeks before Easter. She was in her 30s and it was a shock. She had a heart attack. She was buried as a Catholic. It made the process bitter sweet. The death of the Pope after Easter was also a shock. We all wondered if Easter Vigil would have been put on hold if he had died a few weeks earlier. As a mature adult, I knew that wouldn’t have been the case, but we were like children at this point. We were a flock, following our shepherd.

Easter Vigil is the most moving of all services for me; the dark church, the candles, the new faithful. Never in my life have I experienced such an evening. To receive the host for the first time as a Catholic brings tears to my eyes.

It was a significant day and has shaped the rest of my life. I can think of nothing else that has had the impact becoming Catholic has on my life. Marriage, yes. Infertility, yes. Death, yes. But all of these come back to being Catholic in how I handle them, not the other way around. Being Catholic is first. My faith is first. It’s not something I could have planned or imagined or brought into being. It was Grace.

Catholic Conversion, Part II

When it came time to get married, I planned a marriage in the United Methodist Church. My fiance thought it would be nice to have the priest from his childhood also present. When we called to talk to him about a collaboration, the priest said since I was active in my church and my fiance wasn't active in his, there really wasn't a reason for him to be present. He said if a time came when my fiance wanted to be more active in his faith, then we would have options to consider. I was satisfied with this and so was my fiance. My future mother-in-law was horrified.

After we were married I stayed active in the United Methodist Church. We lived on a family farm and after church on Sunday, I often came home to find my mother-in-law leaving for Mass. She always invited me along and I always went; after all, I loved Catholic Mass. My husband never went to Mass.

Two years found this marriage in a divorce (we never tried to have children and practiced effective birth control). Ten years later found me not attending any church and getting married again. I was marrying yet another non-practicing Catholic. This was a second marriage for both of us and we were married in a court-house.

Shortly after marriage, we moved to a town close to my paternal aunt. She and her family are devout Catholics and active in their faith and parish. My aunt invited us to a mission done by Father Claudio. This mission renewed my husband's faith. He spoke to my aunt and asked her if she thought I would consider becoming a Catholic. She was certain I would and encouraged him to ask. I have no idea why, in all the years before, I had never considered becoming a Catholic. When my husband asked, it seemed like in my heart and mind I already was Catholic and the answer was an easy yes.

On a side note; my aunt is a convert. She converted from United Methodist to Catholicism back when she got married. It was always a sore spot for my father. My father openly hated the Catholic Church. He knew I went to Mass with his sister and may have suspected I was more "involved" in the church than I directly indicated, but it was never discussed. I wouldn't have lied about my conversion, but I didn't want to face the argument if I could avoid it. My father died not knowing I ever converted. I believe that if it's possible, my priest prayed my father into Heaven. Mass, after mass was dedicated to my father by my priest; far more than I've ever seen dedicated to another soul. Regarless of the outcome, I'm thankful for his efforts.

So the question became, where to go to RCIA?

Catholic Conversion, Part I

When I was about 11 years old, I decided I wanted to be a nun. This wouldn't be unusual if I had been raised Catholic, but I was raised United Methodist. There isn't a specific event I can point to that preceded my desire to be a nun. Today I believe it was an actual calling from God. I spent hours in prayer in my bedroom. I had a ceramic figurine my deceased paternal grandmother had made for me and I used it as an icon during my prayers. (Since my conversion, I've learned that my grandmother was born and raised Catholic and joined the United Methodist Church sometime after her first child took his first Communion.) My calling was so great, I told my mother about it. She didn't have any idea about what to do, so we had a meeting with my school guidance councilor. He put me in touch with an ex-nun who taught math at my school. I don't remember much of what she told me, except that there would be plenty of time for me to decide to be a nun and I should wait and see what happens. I can still remember the day, in tears, that I prayed to God and let him know I wasn't going to be able to be a nun after all. I asked His forgiveness and that was the end of that.

After middle school, I decided I wanted to attend our local private Catholic high school. I had friends who were going there and the public school I would have attended was going through race riots that scared me. So, now I had my exposure to actual nuns, but no calling. I liked the nuns, except I was learning a lot about the Catholic church I didn't like. I thought it was crazy to think the host became the body of Christ, when it was obvious to anyone, it didn't. I also heard a story about a couple who wanted to be married in the church and were told they couldn't, because he was in a wheel chair and the marriage could never be consummated. They were faithful Catholics, so they wouldn't live together without being married. I thought how terrible a church to have stupid rules that would keep this loving couple apart. Based on these two reasons, I not only decided that the Catholic church wasn't for me, but that I was in fact an atheist.

Now of course, being a teenager full of contradiction, I had some wonderful encounters with the Catholic faith. I was drawn to mass and able to attend, actually required to attend, at school. I was told by a priest that if I felt called to receive communion, I should even though I wasn't Catholic, (bless that man). I was allowed to go to confession even though I wasn't Catholic and enjoyed the experience. We had a chapel at our school and I spent some of my free time there in prayer. Many of the friends I made were Catholic. This set the stage for attending more masses with them when we weren't in school, which I did. I also met the Catholic man I would marry after graduating college.

After I graduated college, I moved home and became active in the United Methodist church of my youth. When it came time to get married ...